


I remember you

by Cheshire_Child



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker, First Kiss, Memory Loss, Multi, Not completed, Other, crying cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:09:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshire_Child/pseuds/Cheshire_Child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a panicking Sam finds a crippled Dean and a drained angel, he questions them, but , alas, their memories have faded. But one thing still remains in those mixed up noggins of the feeble survivors, something that Sam doesn't have to know...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Find

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is my first work, so let me know what you think in the comments! Thank you for reading and I hope to publish more!

It was the first scream that woke me up.   
I rolled to my side, probing the ground with my elbows. I couldn’t feel my fingers. I couldn’t feel my legs either, for that matter. The binds were too tight, most likely. It had happened before. My elbow connected with the ground, causing more, much more pain then I had expected. I bit back a cry and continued to shift, trying to sit up.  
Another moan of terror rang out next to me.  
For once, I was glad it was dark. I didn’t have to see the pain and terror in the person’s face as they screamed.  
I wiggled and squirmed, once more glad it was dark (Nobody would see me shaking around like I was attempting to do the Worm.)   
Finally though, after more painful connections with the wall, and several cries of terror around me, I was able to sit up. I breathed in deep. The air in the dark prison was stuffy. My eyes began to adjust to the dark and I was able to make out a figure next to me. He was crumpled against the wall, as if he had been thrown at it. Another scream. The person I was squinting at started to shift in his unconsciousness. I nodded, hoping he was okay and shifted to look at my left.   
This person- a female, I guess- lifted her head at the sky and screeched. Not even words anymore, just pure terror and pain. “Hey,” I whispered softly through the dark. ”Hey, don’t be scared. I’m here.” I cringed at the raspy tone of my voice. She swiveled her head around to face me.  
“Who are you!?” she cried, making it sound more like a plea then a question.  
“D-dean. Dean,” I said clearing my throat.  
“Oh…I’m so scared.” the woman breathed.  
She scooted towards me, almost silently. I let her cry into my shoulder, once she reached me. She was clearly in shock, trembling and muttering to herself as she cried.   
I looked again at the man who was slouched against the wall. I found two bright blue eyes staring back at me. They seemed to shine through the darkness.  
An angel.  
What angel would be dow- Cas. I blinked and cleared my throat, trying to ask him what happened. Last I remembered, we were in the bunker, teasing Sam about his score at the rodeo house. Cas was talking about all the shows he had watched on Netflix while he healed us. It was good times.  
So why did I find myself with a woman I’ve never met crying on me, facing a crippled angel in the dark? I was starting to phrase my question, when a small window of light appeared on the floor by Castiel’s feet. It widened and I looked up to see a door opening.   
“DEAN?”  
Someone shouted, coming closer. He was tall, and sounded familiar.   
Sam.  
He shoved the door open wider, so all the light poured in. I grunted at the sudden brightness before looking down at myself. My hands were bound- no surprise there- but my feet weren’t.   
I tried to wiggle my toes, but nothing happened.   
Shit.  
“Sammy, I can’t feel my legs.” I said panicking.   
When he turned to look at me he was flushed, I could see that now in the light. He helped Cas up and gave him the revolver in his waistband. Then he started to help up Amara. She pulled away and stood up by herself. She shuffled over to where Cas was standing.  
Frantically, I tried to move my legs again, but they stayed numb. What was I expecting?   
Sam grabbed my arms and swung me onto his back in an awkward way. I shifted and swung my arm around his back so I was half holding on to him, half dragging myself. We stepped out from the darkness into a bloody concrete room with a demon trap on the ceiling. I pushed past the narrow doorway and glanced at Cas leaving the room with the woman.   
I studied them, as Sam and I shuffled behind. Cas had the gun out, cocking his head around every corner, listening for danger up ahead.   
The woman that had been slumped against me earlier looked to be around 30. She had long, dark hair that seemed to bounce as she walked. Her cheekbones were high-set around her green almond-shaped eyes. Suddenly, I felt a strong need to protect her.   
She seemed familiar…   
“Left here.” Sam barked, throwing me out of my daze. ”Then we’re outta here.” I tried to stomp my foot to get the feeling back into it, but I couldn’t feel my knees either. Damn. Whatever trapped us here really jacked me up. We made the final turn and scooted out the door. Outside was an unpaved driveway next to two greasy dumpsters.  
Baby.   
There she was, parked and waiting for me. I tried to break free of Sam to start her up, but as soon as I pulled from his grasp, it was if someone had kicked my legs out from under me.  
I face-planted onto the sharp little rocks of the driveway.  
Fuck.  
I squirmed, heat rushing to my face. Luckily, Cas and the woman weren’t looking. Sam sighed and grabbed my elbows. I shuffle-walked with him to the backseat of the Impala. Cas opened and slammed the trunk, putting the revolver that Sam gave him away.   
The woman had assumed that she got shotgun, so she was sitting up there all high and mighty next to Sam. Cas slipped in next to me before Sam took off. “Where the heck were we?” I said, breaking the tense silence. ”And how the hell did that happen?”   
Sam scoffed and turned to face me. ”I don’t know. You and Cas were there in the bunker, then you weren’t. I was so hammered, I don’t remember much. I do remember that there was a ton of black smoke when you disappeared, though. I tracked your phone and it brought me here. There was no sign of anybody but you guys there. I was thinking it was a de-“ Sam stopped mid-sentence.   
He looked at the woman next to him. ”Who are you?’ he asked, turning back to look at the road. The woman looked dazed. “Amara,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. ”Amara…” She was sleepy, it seemed. She drifted off almost instantly.  
While she slept, we made plans to drop her off at the nearest hospital. Turned out that Cas didn’t remember a thing either.   
After about 10 miles and no sign of a hospital, Sam pulled the car over at a police station. He unbuckled and started to shake Amara awake. I reached for the door but Sam stopped me. ”You are covered in blood, the both of you.” He said, nodding at Cas. “We already look suspicious. You guys won’t help any.” With that, he took a half-asleep Amara inside, not hearing any of my complaints.   
Cas turned towards me. ”Crowley did this, didn’t he?” he asked, although he seemed quite sure of the answer.  
“I dunno. It doesn’t seem like something he would do.”  
“Oh, so now you know Crowley’s style?’ Cas said, anger mixing in his tone.  
‘No.” I said flatly, irritated at Cas’s sudden mood change.  
He looked disgusted, and turned away from me. “Screw you,” he muttered under his breath.  
What?  
It wasn’t like him to swear…  
My thoughts were interrupted once more by Sam slamming the car door shut. He glanced at us then did a double take. “What’s with Cas?’ He mouthed.   
“Dunno,” I mouthed back. He shrugged, buckled and started the Impala.  
It was going to be a long drive….


	2. The Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a panicking Sam finds a crippled Dean and a drained angel, he questions them, but , alas, their memories have faded. But one thing still remains in those mixed up noggins of the feeble survivors, something that Sam doesn't have to know...

I could tell he was phased. He had sat through two Taylor Swift songs without touching the radio. He stared out the window, ignoring Sam’s mindless chatter. Sam had wanted to ask what we remembered, but after seeing our sour expressions after dropping Amara off, he didn’t push.  
Amara…   
Something about her made me uneasy.  
“Wildest dreams, ahh-‘Dean reached up and clicked off the music, interrupting Taylor. Then he shifted back to the window, his jaw clenched. I turned too, to face my own window.   
I tried to remember…  
They had come home happy despite Metatron, The Darkness, and all the other things that seemed to go wrong. I glanced at what they were holding. The culprit of their good moods was probably what they brought home. Sam had an open case of beers, and Dean held a plastic container of half eaten pie.  
I started to apologize, saying I should have done better research. But Dean silenced me with a drunken wave of his hand. He pulled up a chair and slapped the container pie on the table in front of it. Then he wobbled to the kitchen.  
I glanced at Sam, wondering who had done the driving, but he was three verses into the Star Spangled Banner.   
I turned my attention to the kitchen where I heard rattling. Somewhere behind me, Sam ran into a wall. How he even made it down the stairs, I don’t know. Dean came out, holding three forks. He tossed one to me with surprisingly good aim.  
Politely, I picked up the fork and pretended to eat the pie. Dean was so hammered, he wouldn’t care that I didn’t eat it, I thought. Dean thought otherwise, apparently. Ignoring the forks he had gone to the kitchen to get, he took a handful of pie and shoved it in my face. It was gloppy and messy and tasted of nothing.  
I loved every second of it.  
Dean started eating the rest of the pie, once more ignoring the forks. I started to pull my chair away to go check on Sam, when he faced me, face slathered in pie.  
I sat back down.


	3. The Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a panicking Sam finds a crippled Dean and a drained angel, he questions them, but , alas, their memories have faded. But one thing still remains in those mixed up noggins of the feeble survivors, something that Sam doesn't have to know...

When I became a hunter, I made a promise to myself. Never get too attached. Clearly, that turned out well. Sammy, Ben, Lisa, Charlie, Cas. The list could go on and on. I had failed my promise and therefore myself. Why do I do it?  
That’s the million dollar question.  
It’s always seemed odd to me that I could have so many loud, crashing thoughts in my head, but it be so silent outside of my little world. My little world that was seemingly ending.  
I glanced up at the radio. The silence seemed almost deafening. But it would look foolish now, to reach up and slip in a cassette after angrily shutting off the music earlier. I clenched my hands in my lap, fighting the urge to put in a heavy metal tape.  
When I was younger, Dad was away and Sam asleep, the nightmares would come. All the creatures of the past hunts would come out to have an orgy in my brain. So I would wake up- no matter the time- slide on my Walkman, and put in the loudest, most blaring song to drown out the thoughts whirring in my brain. It wasn’t just music either. White noise, TV, pretty much anything continuous would work. I still do that now, after particularly horrifying or stressful hunts. I always wait until Sam is asleep, though.   
Cas coughs and shifts to look at the time on the dashboard. I stare at him while he does this. His body language is different somehow. He seems tired, not stiff and alert like most angels. He catches me staring. I look back to the window, embarrassed. I try to remember that night in the bunker, before the dark room.   
Sam and I had hit a mini-mart and I didn’t even wait to get home to tear into the pie I had forced Sam to buy. Cas was there when we got home, I remember. Sam went to sleep right away. He’s such a lightweight. I remember messily eating pie (Thank you beer, for ruining my motor skills!) Cas was watching me so shared with him. Like I said, I was hammered. Besides, he needed to loosen up a little. I remember Cas getting up to leave, then changing his mind for whatever reason. I remember Sammy coming out for a Tums later that night after the pie was gone and the alcohol was in full swing. I remember pulling away from Cas. I remember his look of surprise and the sudden cold feeling creeping up the back of my neck. I remember that feeling all around me. Then I remember darkness.   
Screw this.  
“Leaves are falling all around, its time I was on my wayyy”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a panicking Sam finds a crippled Dean and a drained angel, he questions them, but , alas, their memories have faded. But one thing still remains in those mixed up noggins of the feeble survivors, something that Sam doesn't have to know...

After almost an hour of silence, Dean slips in a Led Zeppelin cassette. Sam pretends not to care, but after Dean sits back, he turns the volume down. We hurtle past a burger place and my stomach growls. I clear my throat to hide the sound. I nervously glance around to see if they noticed.   
Angels aren’t supposed to be hungry.  
I don’t want to tell them just yet. I know it’s pointless to wait, it will only cause frustration and pain, yet I wait. My grace, it’s… fading. It seemed stronger when I woke up but now, after a long drive, I can feel it draining. I think that Dean can tell, but Sam seems to be oblivious.  
“Hungry?” Sam says, breaking the silence.  
“Mmmm.” Dean mumbles, sleepy.  
We pull into a Taco Bell drive thru and Sam clears his throat to order. He doesn’t even ask Dean what he wants, just nods into the review mirror. He orders, and I almost ask for something, but I hold back. They’re going to find out anyways, so why stall? Instead I ask,   
“How long ‘till the bunker?”  
Sam turns to me with an inquisitive look on his face.  
“About 3 hours, why?”  
“No reason.” I clench my jaw with discomfort.  
Sam shrugs, tucks his hair behind his ear and turns to pay. He hands the overloaded burrito to Dean. I watch him eat it, my jaw still clenched. Then I catch a whiff of Sam’s quesadillas. My wall of secrecy and composure wavers. I almost ask for a bite. Almost.  
Dean only eats half his burrito. He opens the cooler and shoves the greasy, wrapped paper into it. Then he flips it shut. My stomach growls again. Louder this time. Dean looks at me and knocks his knee against mine. He opens to cooler again and takes out his leftover burrito. He hands it to me and turns to the window. I look at the burrito. It’s falling apart, with too much sour cream and it smells like fryer grease.  
I take a bite.


	5. Chapter 5

“We’re here.” Sam’s voice interrupts my train of thoughts. Cas opens the door and shakily gets out. He threw up earlier, after eating the burrito. He blamed it on car sickness, but I think he’s just not used to food yet. It’s weird, thinking about his human needs now. I push away the thought and pull open my door. I scoot to the edge of the seat and try to step out of the impala. I fail.   
“Sam.”   
“Comin’.”  
I flush from embarrassment and hope Cas isn’t looking. He is. I ignore his concerned face and walk-drag with Sam to my room. He flops me onto the bed and I push him away and tell him to shut the door. I can hear him hesitate, but I stay quiet, waiting for him to leave. He finally does, and I let out a huge sigh. I manage to turn from my belly to my back, to a sitting position. I unlace by boots, nervous to see what I’ll find inside them. When I peel my socks off, I find nothing. Well, my feet are still there, but unscathed. I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Angry, I rip my other boot off and chuck it at the opening door, nearly hitting Cas.  
He ducks just in time though, and I mumble an apology, looking down at my bare feet. Cas pats his head and sits softly next to me on the mattress.   
“I know you remember, Dean.” He practically whispers.   
I clench my jaw in response.  
“And you know I’m human now, so you know I can’t fight again.”  
I play with the fabric of his sleeve.  
“I need you to remember.”  
I stare at his sleeve with such intensity, I wouldn’t be surprised if I burned a hole in it. I stare until Cas’s hands pull away and he leaves. I stare at the same spot until my neck starts to hurt and my eyes start to water. When I finally break free of my stare, I lay back and dream.  
Whips. I can feel the sharp leather striking my back. I can feel the sting of blood. I smell vomit. I crane my neck to see Cas. He is in the same position as me. Arms over head, feet chained, back exposed. The whip strikes him, and he stifles a shout. The room is dark and small, but I can see Cas in the torchlight that the whipper has. I get smacked again, and this one hurts. I scream in agony, trying to catch my breath, but the room is so stuffy, so painful that I can’t.  
I sit up in bed, panting. Sam stumbles into my doorway.  
“Dean!”  
I don’t answer, I just gulp for air. Sam shakes me and asks if I’m okay. I ignore him and breathe the sweet, beautiful air. Sam keeps asking, pestering me if I’m okay and what happened.   
“Dean? You’re starting to freak me out, man. Please answer me! What happened?”  
I shudder in a deep breath.  
“Cas…”  
Sam practically sprints out of the room to fetch him. I wait, adjusting the blanket so I don’t look as crazed as I feel.   
Cas rushes in, soft from sleep. Sam putters in after him, looking like a worried mother. He sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. I try to sit up to talk to him, but once again, my legs make that difficult. I use my elbows this time and manage to sit up.   
“I remember.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sam wakes me up around 3:oo. I grumble and turn over.   
“Cas, its Dean.”  
Those 3 words were all I needed. I jump out of bed, scaring Sam with my sudden agility. He recovers, then turns towards Dean’s room. I follow, trying to ignore the head rush of jumping out of bed. Dean. I must focus on Dean.  
I push ahead of Sam, needing to see him. Dean is sitting upright in bed, sheets twisted around his jeans. He hasn’t changed clothes. He’s panting, desperate and sweaty. His t-shirt sticks to his chest.   
“Cas…”  
I freeze at the pain in his voice.  
“Cas, I remember.”  
Sam backs away and gives us space. I shut the door behind him. Dean is fumbling with the sheets, trying and failing to untangle himself from the twisted cotton. I brush his hand away and do it myself. After his legs are free, he scoots over onto his back so I can lay beside him. I instinctively reach my hand towards his forehead, then remember about my grace.  
“What did you see?” I ask, keeping my tone calm.  
Dean sighs, shuffling so the sheets aren’t as uncomfortable on his hot skin. “Darkness.”  
I nod, studying his face “Anything else?”  
He looks at me. “What do you remember?”   
I twist his comforter around my pinkie. “I remember whips and pain and blood and…and…”  
I hesitate, pondering if I should say it aloud.  
“And longing.”  
Dean struggles to sit up, but once he does, he leans into me.   
“I remember longing.” He restates, confirming that he too, had felt that emotion.  
Sam nearly kicks the door down with anxiety. We both swivel our heads and Dean pulls away. Sam blushes for a second, realizing that he had intruded. I stand up. Sam continues to blush and mutters something under his breath.   
“Dean, can you stand?”  
Dean grunts and places his hand on my shoulder, trying to use me as leverage to get up. I place my hand on the back of his upper thigh, pushing him forwards. With our combined efforts, Dean manages to stand. Sam scoffs worriedly.  
“Cas, let go.”  
I do.   
Dean wobbles without support and for one second I think he’s going to fall. He doesn’t fall, but he does grip the nightstand with white knuckles. I stand up behind him, ready to catch him if he stumbles. Sam rubs his hands into his hair and lets out a huge sigh.   
“Cas, can you fix him?”  
I freeze again, I have to tell him. Before I can tell him about my grace though, Dean interrupts.   
“No, Sam, he can’t, because I’m not broken.”  
Sam gives Dean an icy cold bitch face and leaves the room, mumbling “Jerk.”  
Dean falls back on me, lading square between my thighs. I scoot back, so he has more of a seat on his bed. He looks up at me expectantly, his green eyes shimmering. I stare back, awaiting his next move.   
He grabs my shoulders and pulls me towards his face. My eyes flutter closed, not before seeing his emerald irises shadowed by his beautiful eyelashes. God, he’s beautiful. Leaning in, Dean murmurs,  
“I remember you.”  
He closes the short distance between us quickly and our lips meet, my spine shivering at this familiar feeling. I suck his lips, making him smile. He twists to he’s sitting in my lap, a more comfortable position for kissing. His tongue dances around my closed lips, waiting for an invitation to come in. I oblige and now Dean Winchester’s tongue is in my mouth. He groans into the kiss and I open my eyes.   
Sam is standing behind us with a grin, holding up his phone. He had seen it all. I yelp, startling Dean. He nearly tumbles backwards off the bed, but I slide him to the foot of the mattress instead. Sam giggles and sprints out of the room, having what he needed. I chase after him, following him towards his room, where he abruptly shuts the door behind him.  
“Sam, this is childish.”  
I only hear giggles in response. Then I hear the video playback. Dean’s groans and my movement. I blush and pound on the door again.  
“Sam! Please delete that! “  
I stomp back to Dean’s room exasperated. He looks up and see him blushing too.   
“So?”  
I grunt, frustrated that we had been caught. Dean laughs and clicks his tongue.   
He asks me to shut the door. I lock it for good measure. He stretches out and grins like a doofus. I climb onto him and kiss the smile off his face. I smile and he looks at me.   
“No interruptions?”  
“No interruptions.”  
…  
“Cas, are you okay?”   
I shudder at the urgency in his voice. My eyes tear open and Dean is in my lap, grasping my shoulders. So we hadn’t kissed then. My heart almost seems to sigh with disappointment, and I crumple under Dean’s grip.   
“Yeah, just tired.”   
I push him off of me and make sure he’s still on the bed. I bustle out and head to the room they had for me, despite me not needing sleep. I’m glad for it now, and they have so many rooms in this god-awful bunker anyways. I shut the door, careful to lock it and walk to the bed. I collapse onto it and my body heaves with exhaustion and longing. I’m not much of a romantic, so this sudden want surprises me. But then I think about the way Dean looked at me… Oh, what I’ve missed. He’s so beautiful and none of it can be mine. Jesus.  
I crawl under the covers and pout at the unfairness of it all. Pouting turns to longing and longing turns to desperation. Pretty soon I’m sobbing into my pillow. Hard-core sobbing, snot and hiccups included.   
I hear a knock at the door some time later.   
“Cas, you okay?”  
Oh. It’s Dean.  
“Cas, what happened back there?”  
“Cas?!”  
I shuffle to open the door and try my best to clean up my red face.  
“What the hell man, dude I-“He quits his scoffing to look at me.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?”  
I turn away to lay back down, trying to shove the bubbly felling rising in my chest back down. Dean grabs my shoulder and spins me to him. I gasp at the harshness and Dean’s expression. He looks at me with those eyes made of melted emerald and I think to myself: when did I start talking like a mushy love poem written by a 12 year old girl?  
I almost close my eyes, scared of what this moment my entail…


	7. Chapter 7

He’s scaring me. He had been so close. So close. I could’ve kissed him then, but I didn’t. Because I’m scared and nervous and I might’ve just lost him forever. I know that I hurt him before, in the endless pit of darkness, and I know that he remembers. I struggle to stand after him, my legs still numb. Somehow, I manage to stumble towards his room, groping the walls for support the whole way. His door is locked and I hear him on the other side. He’s crying, I think. I knock and ask him if he’s okay. He doesn’t answer, so I ask again. The silence remains. I call his name, frantically this time. He opens the door and I scold him until I catch sight of his tearstained face. He tries to ignore me, but I need him. I grab his shoulder and try to face him. He gasps slightly, and I almost feel bad for being so rough with him. He looks at me with those eyes made of the fucking ocean, and closes them, leaning forward. He’s so close, so close. I don’t want to hurt him. I almost don’t kiss him, but he’s there, and beautiful and waiting. I do. I do. I slam his lips against mine, sucking and licking his lips. He opens them, and his tongue is so warm, so inviting, that I groan. I open my eyes just as he pulls away from me. He locks the door and shrugs of his trench coat before coming back to me. I kiss him with suck ferocity and passion that I’m surprised that he doesn’t break. He’s so beautiful, so strong and I love him. I love him. He begins to push me down on my back, climbing on top of me. I reach up to kiss him and start to unbutton his shirt, moaning into his mouth. He sits up to tear off his shirt and makes quick work of my t-shirt. I smile into his neck as he kisses me all over.


End file.
